


Second Coming

by Spikedluv



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: winter_of_wes, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-03
Updated: 2011-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 08:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley arrives in Sunnydale before Angel’s return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Coming

**Author's Note:**

> Written for winter_of_wes. Some quotes taken directly from the transcript for ‘Beauty and the Beasts’.
> 
> Written: January 17, 2006

Wesley’s flight arrived in Sunnydale on a clear, bright October morning. He shouldered his carry-on and followed the signs to baggage claim. Though this was his second trip to Sunnydale in less than six months, it was his first time inside the airport. The last visit, in May, they’d arrived on a private jet, their ride waiting for them just off the runway when they’d deplaned.

I didn’t miss much, he thought as he surveyed his surroundings in passing. Uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs, a small shop selling magazines and last-minute gifts, and a restaurant. The smell of burnt coffee wafted out into the terminal and made him wish for a cup of strong tea. Earl Grey, preferably. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get it here, and that made him feel a bit homesick. Of necessity, this visit wouldn’t be as quick as the last.

At baggage claim he had to wait fifteen minutes before the conveyor started moving, just long enough to make him thankful he’d packed a change of clothes in with his laptop and copies of _Mystery of Acathla_ and _Exploring Demon Dimensions_ that he’d borrowed from the Watchers Council’s Library. Wesley shifted the bag on his shoulder and ignored the stares of people milling around the carousel. He’d dressed to blend in—jeans, a white button-down, boots and a brown leather jacket—but seemed to be garnering attention despite the attempt.

He rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble that reminded him he’d been traveling for nearly twenty hours, including a stopover in Philadelphia and a plane change in LA, and sighed when the conveyor finally jerked into motion. When it came around, Wesley grabbed his oversized and battered leather duffel, and then headed out to the short-term parking area.

He found the black GMC Suburban parked in space D13 just as he’d been informed, and retrieved the keys from a magnetic case hidden inside the wheel well. He unlocked the doors and tossed his duffel onto the back seat, then climbed into the front and carefully set his carry-on onto the passenger seat.

Wesley gave the lease a cursory glance before stuffing the paperwork into the glove box, then dug the map of Sunnydale and the directions to the mansion on Crawford Street, which the Council was letting, out of his bag.

Forty-five minutes later, Wesley turned into the long driveway that led to the mansion and pulled to a stop at the front steps. Though the sun was shining high in the sky, and the mansion had been cleaned and prepared for his arrival, he wasn’t going to take any chances. He was now on the Hellmouth, after all.

He opened the door to the rear compartment of the SUV and pulled up the rug. Tucked inside a hidden compartment was a small metal box. Wesley set it on the floor and opened it. He pulled out the 9mm Beretta, then checked it over before he loaded a magazine into the handle. He stuck the gun into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back, hidden beneath his jacket, and tucked an extra clip into the pocket.

The keys were beneath the urn beside the front door, just as he’d expected, and Wesley let himself into the mansion. He looked around the atrium as he pushed the large door shut behind him, and then stepped further into the room. He paused at the spot where the once-again-inert statue of Acathla had stood when he and his team had come to retrieve it months earlier, before continuing on to explore the rest of the mansion.

While the entire building had been cleaned, only the downstairs had been set up for living quarters. Off the atrium was a room with a fireplace that had been set up with bookshelves, a seating area and a desk. Several lamps were scattered about the room, since heavy curtains covered the windows. Wesley figured that he’d be spending most of his time in that room and was glad that it looked comfortable. There was also a bedroom with an attached bath, and the kitchen, stocked with food he doubted he’d be able to find in a town the size of Sunnydale.

Once he’d assured himself that he was alone, and that the mansion was secure, Wesley took a moment to study the large metal rings set in the wall of the den. He tugged on them, even though he knew that his strength could not compare to that of a vampire determined to get free. Back in the atrium, he opened a large chest and removed the shackles and chains contained therein, looking them over closely, running his fingers over the marks that assured him of their supernatural strength.

Dumping the chains back into the chest until they were needed, Wesley opened a second, smaller chest. He made a mental note of each of the weapons he’d been provided and checked the edge on the blades and the point on the stakes. Finally satisfied, he closed the chest and went out to the Suburban to bring in his bags.

He dropped his duffel in the atrium and took his carry-on into the den and unpacked it. He plugged his cell phone in to recharge, set his laptop on the desk, and stacked his books on the corner. Once he’d sent the e-mail off to the Council to let them know he’d arrived and settled in, Wesley leaned back in the chair, considering his next move.

The seer who had prophesied the return of the vampire with a soul had only been able to give them an approximate date, and if what she’d foreseen was correct, it would occur at night. _From whence he was taken._ Which meant right here in the atrium. Probably within the next week or so.

In the meantime, Wesley would familiarize himself with Sunnydale and continue his study of Acathla and demon dimensions in preparation for the ‘second coming’, as he’d irreverently begun calling it.

Wesley checked his watch. Tomorrow he’d explore Sunnydale. Tonight he’d make himself an early tea and read in front of the fire before catching up on sleep lost in the rush to prepare for this assignment.

*~*~*

  
It took Wesley three nights before he ran into the slayer. The only problem was, it wasn’t the slayer he’d been expecting.

The day after he arrived, Wesley had woken early, refreshed from a full night of rest. After breakfast, he’d set out to explore Sunnydale. He’d reviewed the map and then driven downtown, parked in one of the lots and walked the streets, the better to familiarize himself with the layout of the town. He spent an hour wandering around a small magic shop and then had lunch. That afternoon he’d driven out to the docks.

The second day he’d spent checking out the forty-three churches and myriad cemeteries. The third day he’d driven around the residential areas and out past the Sunnydale Mall, the Sunnydale Zoo, and UC Sunnydale.

Each evening he’d attempted to get a look at the slayer. He knew all about Buffy Summers’ past relationship with Angel, and he also knew that he’d have to be very careful if he was to keep Angel’s return concealed from her until the Council had determined whether he was a danger, or—as the seer’s vision had foretold—whether the vampire with a soul would be a force on the side of good in the fight against evil.

Now, he stayed hidden in the shadows and watched the dark-haired girl take on a gang of vampires. She fought with energy and enthusiasm, but she lacked discipline and skill. She had the strength and speed of a slayer, but it was obvious that she hadn’t been trained.

Unless Buffy Summers had died within the last several months, something he wasn’t aware of, this slayer must be Faith, the slayer who’d been called when Kendra was killed by Drusilla. But he couldn’t figure out what had brought her from Boston to Sunnydale.

When the fight was over, he followed her to a run-down motel. Even more confused, he walked to his vehicle and then drove back to the mansion. After composing an e-mail to the home office, Wesley retired for the night.

The next morning, Wesley carried his tea and toast into the den and checked his e-mail. The first mail was a response to his query about Faith and informed him that her watcher had been killed in Boston and that Faith had disappeared. The second mail was from Quentin Travers, requesting that he keep an eye on Faith until another watcher could be assigned.

Wesley leaned back in his chair and licked marmalade off his thumb as he contemplated the two missives. He hoped they didn’t dally in the appointment of a new watcher for Faith. He was already going to have his hands full with Angel when he returned, and there would be little time to take Faith under his wing as well. With a sigh, he sat back up and clicked ‘reply’.

Before the sun set, Wesley was parked outside Faith’s motel. He figured that after staying up most of the night slaying, she’d sleep in. When she emerged from her room, he waited until she was far enough ahead of him to not spot him, then followed her on foot.

Her first stop was a diner where she ordered a cheeseburger and fries with a large chocolate milkshake and flirted with the waiter. When she disappeared down the hallway to the restrooms after finishing her meal, Wesley was concerned that she’d skipped out on the bill. He was debating whether it was his place to pay it for her when she reappeared.

Instead of returning to her table, she walked to the front door and then turned and blew a kiss to her waiter. Wesley just stared as Faith sauntered out the diner, then looked over at the waiter who was clearing her table with a smile on his face.

“Oh for god’s sake.”

He threw some bills onto his table and followed Faith out to the street. Her next visit was to The Bronze, a dance club where the music was loud and...very American. He ordered a tonic water and twist of lime, though he’d have preferred scotch straight up, and then disappeared into the shadows around the dance floor to keep an eye on Faith.

She danced for an hour, not even having to leave the dance floor to get a drink, as the drinks kept coming to her. When she led her dance partner off the floor, Wesley was reluctant to follow, as the last thing he wanted to do was catch Faith having sex with some boy in an alley. Giving her a few minutes head start, he resigned himself to dealing with whatever he found, and went after her.

What he found was Faith fighting a vampire. Since she was having no problem with it, Wesley stayed back and studied her fighting technique, if one could call it that.

She wasn’t even breathing hard when she finished off the vampire. She stood with her back to Wesley and said, “Why are you following me?”

Wesley knew he wasn’t good at the cloak and dagger stuff, but he didn’t think he’d been doing too badly. He stepped out of the shadows and Faith turned to look at him.

“Last night and tonight.” She calmly wiped the stake on her jeans and stuck it into her back pocket.

“How did you know I was there?”

“A girl grows up on the streets, she gets eyes in the back of her head.”

“Ah, of course. Well, to answer your question, the Council asked me t—.”

Wesley’s reply was cut off as Faith grabbed him around the throat and shoved him back into the wall.

“You followed me here?”

“No.” Wesley scrabbled at the fingers wrapped around his throat. “I’m in Sunnydale for an entirely different purpose. Discovering that you were here was merely fortuitous.”

Faith snorted. “Fortuitous, huh? Then why were you following me?”

“I was looking for Buffy Summers, actually. Finding you instead was unexpected.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Could you...?” He pulled on her fingers.

“Oh, right, sorry ‘bout that.” She tucked her hands into her pockets and shrugged. “So, you’re not my new watcher?”

“No. As I said, I’m here on another assignment, but I was asked to keep an eye on you once we knew you were here.”

“Yeah, well I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me, and I don’t need another watcher, so you can tell them that for me.”

Wesley was horrified at that sentiment. “But, all slayer’s need watchers.”

“Last one didn’t do me much good.”

Her harsh words and stiff posture proclaimed tough and uncaring, but Wesley sensed the fear in her voice and tempered his own response.

“Oftentimes, a watcher is forced to watch their slayer die, and to live with that loss, but on occasion a watcher is killed in the line of duty. We understand the risks when we choose to become a watcher, and accept them willingly. It doesn’t make the loss any easier to bear, I know, but you must believe that she had no regrets....”

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw what he did to her.”

Wesley had been trained in the watcher lore, in spell casting, and in combat, but he’d never been trained to deal with a slayer. He had little understanding of what a young girl who’d just lost her watcher in a most dreadful manner would need to hear, so he fell back on honesty. “Perhaps not.”

Faith shook off the melancholy and smiled at Wesley. “It’s been fun, but I need to rock and roll.”

“Rock and roll?”

Faith mimed staking a vampire.

“Ah. May I accompany you?”

“Accompany me? Why?”

Wesley shrugged. “I’ve nothing better to do this evening, and since I’m not your watcher, you needn’t worry about me.”

“I’m not worried.”

Faith turned and walked out of the alley, and Wesley fell into step beside her.

“Of course not. But I do think that you could benefit from my expertise.”

Faith scoffed. “Expertise?”

“Yes. While I don’t have your strength, speed, agility....”

“I get it, Jeeves.”

“I do have a fair amount of training.”

“In what, Vampire 101?”

“Well, yes, but I was talking about weapons and hand-to-hand.”

Faith stopped walking and Wesley had to turn around and walk back to her.

“You can fight?”

“Certainly. All watchers can fight. Some better than others, of course.”

“Of course. You have weapons?”

“Well, on me I only have....” Wesley paused and began pulling out the weapons he carried on his person. “...two stakes, this lovely dagger, and a small hatchet. Oh, and this.” Wesley bent his wrist and a blade shot out.

“Awesome.”

“Isn’t it?” He sighed as he retracted the blade.

“Can I try that?”

“Have you trained with one?”

“No.”

“Then, yes, you may. After you’ve had some training.”

Faith groaned dramatically.

“How about this?” He held up the hatchet.

Faith held out her hand for the hatchet. “How hard can it be?”

“As with all things, becoming proficient takes practice,” Wesley warned, but handed the hatchet over anyway.

“Whatever you say, Watcher-man.”

“I told you, I’m not.... Call me Wesley, please.”

Faith looked at him over the hatchet she was swinging experimentally. “Wes, all right.”

By the time he’d been slaying with Faith for a couple hours, Wesley understood why some watcher’s burnt out quicker than others. He’d stopped counting the number of times he’d had to say, “Guard your left side,” or “Don’t expose your back,” or “You’re opening up too much on the swing.” What scared him the most for Faith, though, was her lack of control.

“This isn’t a very safe neighborhood,” Wesley said when they were standing outside Faith’s motel after a long night of slaying (Faith) and frustration (Wesley).

“This is good. I’m used to it.” She looked Wesley over. “You can come in, if you want.”

“No, I really need to.... Oh! No! I mean, I.... No, I really must decline.”

Faith shrugged. “Your loss.”

“I’m sure it is,” Wesley said. He started to turn away, then turned back. “Listen, given your recent, uh, invitation, this might sound.... Look, as I said before, I’m here in Sunnydale on another assignment, totally unrelated to your presence here, but as long as you don’t do anything to compromise it, you’re welcome to stay with me. It’s much better than....” He indicated the motel. “...this.” At Faith’s raised eyebrow he added, “In your own room, of course.”

Faith waved him off. “Nah, that’s not necessary. I’m five by five.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yeah, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome. The offer still stands, by the way, and will for as long as I’m in Sunnydale. Oh, here.” Wesley took out his notebook and wrote down his cell phone number. “Call me if you change your mind. Or if you need anything.” He ripped off the piece of paper and handed it to Faith, who shoved it in her back pocket without even looking at it.

“So, this is it?”

“Not at all. I expect we’ll run into each other again.”

Faith nodded, and the corners of her lips turned up in what might have been a smile. “Cool.” She held out the hatchet to him.

Wesley put his hand up, palm out, refusing it. “Keep it. Maybe you’ll come by one day and we can train.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

*~*~*

  
Wesley spent the next evening in front of the fire with a tumbler of scotch and his borrowed copy of _Exploring Demon Dimensions_. He didn’t want to crowd Faith—despite her tough exterior, she looked like she’d spook easily—but he found himself thinking about her and hoping she was faring all right.

Two nights later the unexpected pealing of the doorbell caused him to spill some of the tea he’d been just about to sip. Swearing softly he set the cup down on the saucer on the end table and dabbed at his trousers with a napkin. Dropping the napkin onto the table, he stood and went to answer the door.

He peered out the window to the side of the door before pulling it open. “Faith! Good lord, are you all right?”

Faith had a few cuts and bruises and she sagged against the door frame. “Five by five, Wes. Look, I was wondering if that offer....”

“Yes, yes, of course, certainly, please....” Training kicking in and he stopped just short of inviting her in, but stood back to allow her to pass. He closed the door and turned to see Faith looking up at the ceiling of the atrium.

“Nice place.”

“Yes, well, it’s a rental.”

Faith laughed. “Right. I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Certainly not! Although, I must reiterate that....”

“Yeah, yeah, assignment, don’t compromise, I got it.”

Wesley wanted to reach out and touch Faith, offer her some comfort for whatever had gone down that night, but he wasn’t sure she’d be receptive. He kept his voice low when he spoke. “How did you find me?”

Faith gave him a look. “I followed you.”

“Ah. Well, can you tell me what happened tonight?”

“Long story.”

“All right, well, how about a nice hot shower and something to eat?”

“I could use a good hard fuck,” Faith said.

Couldn’t we all? Wesley thought. “Well, I, uh, can offer you a hot shower and something to eat. You’ll have to go elsewhere for the, uh, other.”

Faith grinned at him over her shoulder. “I’m telling you, Wes, you’ve never had sex until you’ve had sex with me. It’s a real romp.”

“While I’m sure that’s true,” Wesley said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

Faith turned around, dropped her bag, and put her hands on her hips. “What, you don’t find me attractive?”

“On the contrary, you’re quite attractive.”

“Then why not? I need it, and I’d make it good for you.”

“First of all, it would be inappropriate.”

Faith slid her hands around onto her butt and stuck her chest out. “Even if I wanted it?”

“Even if _I_ wanted it,” Wesley said.

Faith’s eyes got big. “You telling me you really don’t want this?”

“As shocking as that might sound, yes.”

“Well, why not? I’m not ugly. And I’m hot as shit in bed.”

Wesley wondered how the conversation had gone from Faith looking like someone had run her over with a truck to sex. “It’s nothing personal, Faith, but I’m not, uh, interested in....”

Faith was giving him a measuring look. “Wes, you like boys?”

“Men,” Wesley corrected. “I like men.”

“What a coincidence, me, too. Hey, maybe we could go out cruising together.”

“Perhaps some other night. Right now, you shower and I’ll make you something to eat.”

The relative ease with which Faith gave in told Wesley all he needed to know about how the night had gone. He guided her to the master bath and left her to shower, then went to make her something to eat. Since it was late, he decided on soup and sandwich. He was just putting her food and another cup of tea for himself on a tray when she came into the kitchen toweling her hair.

“Faith, how do you feel?”

“Better,” she said. “That for me?”

“Yes. Except for the tea. Unless you want tea.”

“Milk’s fine.”

“Okay.” Wesley lifted the tray. “I thought we’d go sit in by the fire.”

Wesley led the way to the den, glancing over at Faith when she let out an appreciative whistle at the sight of the fireplace. He set the tray on the table between the chairs, and indicated that she should sit in the chair closest to the fire. They were quiet while she ate, and Wesley spent the time considering the sleeping arrangements.

Since only the downstairs had been furnished, and only with what would be necessary for Wesley’s comfort, Faith would have to sleep in the master bedroom that night, and the next day they’d go shopping—with Council funds—for a bedroom set for her. He figured that he could manage with the cot that was folded up in the corner awaiting Angel’s arrival.

Faith argued with him, but she was too tired to put up much of a fight. When she asked where he’d be sleeping, he pointed out the cot. She wandered over to that corner, and stood silent long enough for Wesley to wonder what she thought about the steel rings in the wall. Finally she said, “Kinky. Got these in every room?”

“No,” Wesley said, amazed that he could still blush. “They’re for....”

“Your assignment, got it. Need help with the cot?”

“No, thank you, I can manage. Why don’t you go get some sleep?”

Faith went to bed and Wesley got the cot out. At one point during the night, he wondered if the floor wouldn’t be more comfortable.

The next day, Wesley had Faith pick out the bedroom she wanted to use while he prepared breakfast. It had been awhile since he’d bothered to cook a big breakfast, since it was usually not worth it for just one. He cleaned up the dishes and Faith helped him wash. At the local furniture store Wesley let Faith pick out the bedroom set she wanted. The expression on her face touched something deep inside him, and after he’d paid he took her out for lunch followed by an ice cream cone, and then home to await the delivery of the bedroom furniture.

To kill time while they waited, he started her training. She was smart and quick, but resistant to anything she perceived as authority. He knew that she’d eventually take his lessons to heart, in her own time, and could only hope it was before her obstinance got her badly hurt, or even killed.

During their sparring session, Faith said, “I met the other slayer, Buffy, and her watcher, Giles.”

Wesley missed his mark and let a blow through. That, he thought, is going to bruise.

“They don’t know you’re here, do they?”

“No, they don’t. Did you mention it?”

“No. Would it be a problem if I had?”

Wesley shook his head. “Just...awkward.”

Faith let it go and they returned to training.

After the deliverymen had left, Wesley stood in the doorway of the room Faith had chosen and watched her bounce on the bed. Though there were several empty rooms on the ground floor, she had decided that they’d both have more privacy if she chose a room on the second floor. The one she chose was just down the hall from the stairs and overlooked the back lawn. Currently, it was overgrown, but once, it must have been lovely.

He left Faith lying on her bed, grinning at the ceiling, and went downstairs to begin making tea. When Faith came down she was dressed to go out.

“Eat before you leave,” Wesley said, then indicated the cupboard with the dishes. “Set the table, please?”

While he was putting the finishing touches on the meal, Wesley said, “Can you tell me about last night?”

Faith was silent for several minutes. She was leaning her hip against the counter, tracing a pattern with her finger. “Ever heard of Kakistos?”

The meat was well-done and the potatoes mushy by the time Faith finished telling Wesley about how Kakistos had killed her watcher in revenge, and then followed her to Sunnydale to finish the job. When she was done, Wesley went with the urge to hug her. She was stiff in his arms, and just as Wesley was considering that the best course of action would be to step back and give Faith her space, she relaxed and brought her arms up to hug him back.

During the meal, which tasted good even though it was overcooked, Faith asked Wesley if he wanted to go to The Bronze with her.

“I think I’m a little old for The Bronze,” he said, remembering how out of place he’d felt the other night when he’d followed Faith in. “Besides, I have this feeling.... I think my package will be arriving any time now.”

*~*~*

  
Despite the fact that he’d been anticipating it, the bright light that filled the atrium was unexpected when it arrived. Wesley set his book on the end table and his glasses atop it, then checked his wrist stakes before walking to the doorway and peering into the atrium. A naked figure lay curled up on the floor, just in front of the spot where Acathla had stood.

His guard up, Wesley walked over to the man. He nudged him gently with his toe, then rolled him over onto his back. It was Angel, and he was unresponsive, just as Wesley figured, based on the trauma of being sent through a portal from a hell dimension, not to mention, having spent an untold number of years in said hell dimension.

Wesley got the enchanted shackles out of the chest and put them around Angel’s ankles and wrists, then rang his contact to order a delivery of fresh blood. While he was waiting, Wesley carried the chain into the den and put it through the rings in the wall, and then went back into the atrium. He slipped his hands under Angel’s arms and lifted him, then dragged him into the den.

He was too heavy for Wesley to lift him onto the cot, and Wesley wasn’t sure if Angel would use the flimsy cot for a weapon, so he had placed the small mattress on the floor. Once Angel was lying as comfortable as Wesley could get him, he chained him to the wall and then covered him with a blanket.

A box of Angel’s clothing from when he’d lived in the mansion had been saved, but Wesley decided to wait until Angel was lucid before trying to dress him. Especially since he looked to need a bath, as well.

Wesley, lost in thought, failed to hear Faith return home until she said, “I sense a vampire.”

He let out an undignified squeak and had to take a moment to get his heart rate back under control before he could respond. “Yes, well, my package has arrived.”

“You were waiting for a vampire?” She twirled the stake in her hand as if she wanted nothing more than to put it through Angel’s heart.

“Yes, but this is no ordinary vampire.”

She didn’t look convinced. “How so?”

Angel began to thrash in his sleep.

“I think he senses you, as well. Your presence seems to be bothering him.”

“Fair’s fair.”

Wesley led an uncooperative Faith out of the den. “Come on, I’ll make us tea and tell you all about it.”

“A vampire with a soul?” Faith said after Wesley had finished telling her about the seer’s vision. “I’ve only heard of one vampire with a soul, and he’s dead.”

“Well, yes, he is still _dead_ ,” Wesley hedged.

“You telling me that’s _Angel_ in there?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you don’t want B to know you’re here?”

“B?”

“Buffy.”

“Oh. Well, yes. For several reasons. One, we weren’t one hundred percent certain that the vision was accurate. Secondly, we have no idea what Angel’s...personality will be.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Time moves at different rates in different dimensions. It’s possible that Angel has been in the hell dimension he was sent to when Acathla was closed for years, even decades. Perhaps even longer. A vampire with a soul would be punished, tortured.”

“He’s been tortured for years?”

“Yes, which is why we didn’t know if he’d be...whole when he returned. Of sound mind, so to speak.”

“So the chains.”

“Correct. Now, until we can figure out if he’s...sane, perhaps you should keep your distance from him so as not to provoke him.”

“And if he’s not? Sane, that is.”

“Well, then, we might have to end his existence. Again.”

*~*~*

  
Wesley sat up all night watching over Angel. He didn’t know if he could hear him, or would even understand him, but he spoke to him whenever he got restless and it seemed to settle him down. When it began to look like Angel was regaining consciousness, Wesley went to the kitchen to heat up some blood.

He set the container on the floor within Angel’s reach, and then stepped back. Angel sniffed the room before he reached full awareness, and then suddenly rolled to his knees and lunged at Wesley. He jumped back in reaction, even though he had every confidence that the chains would hold despite vampire strength.

When he caught scent of the blood, Angel turned his attention away from Wesley and guzzled it down, spilling it over his chin in his haste. Sated, Angel crawled back against the wall and sat glaring at Wesley.

Re-taking his seat near Angel, but well out of reach, Wesley said, “Hello, Angel. My name is Wesley. I know you’re confused right now, but that will soon pass.” I hope, he thought.

Angel turned his head away from Wesley and stared towards the doorway, leaning forward. When Faith appeared, Angel growled and huddled himself back into the corner.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m not sure,” Wesley said. “He seemed to be expecting you, almost eagerly, but then...this.” He ushered Faith to the kitchen. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I just felt weird all night, like I had bugs crawling all over me.”

“Angel’s proximity, do you think?”

“I’m not sure. Figured since I couldn’t sleep I’d see if you wanted to spar or something, but you look like you’ve been up all night.”

“I have. I was afraid to leave him unattended his first night back. He’s only just woken.”

“Why don’t you go get some sleep, I’ll stay with him.”

“Faith, I appreciate the offer, but this isn’t your....”

“It’s the least I can do, now go.”

Wesley wavered.

“Seriously, what else am I going to do all day?”

“All right. Thank you. Now, he’ll probably sleep, but if last night was any indication, it’ll be restless.”

Wesley explained how talking to Angel had seemed to help him and exhorted Faith not to get too close, even when she brought him something to eat. When he woke up hours later, feeling well-rested, he wandered out into the atrium and heard the sound of Faith’s voice as she read aloud from _Mystery of Acathla_.

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate reading material,” he said, smiling when Faith jumped.

“It’s all you’ve got,” she said, making a face a him.

“Yes, unfortunately, you’re right. We should remedy that. Why don’t you stop at the bookstore while you’re out today and buy us some books.”

“What kind?”

“Anything you think looks interesting.” He looked at Angel. “He probably won’t care what we read to him.”

Wesley and Faith took turns watching over Angel, feeding him and reading to him. One night Wesley added a mild sleeping potion to Angel’s blood and they shared the task of quickly cleaning him up and getting him dressed in a pair of loose trousers. When he was deeply asleep, they would eat, train, or sleep.

One morning a week later, Faith said, “I’m supposed to go in and meet with Buffy and Giles today. He wants me to train with him.”

Faith had found out the previous week that the Council had assigned Giles as her temporary watcher.

“I thought you were supposed to be looking out for me.”

“I am,” Wesley had said. “My orders haven’t been rescinded. Perhaps they didn’t want to blow my cover by telling Giles that there was another watcher in Sunnydale.”

“Trouble,” Faith said when she got home. “There was a murder last night. A student. They’re afraid that Oz got out of the cage. And also, I agreed to take wolf watch tonight. You gonna be okay alone with Angel?”

“Yes, I should be. He’s much calmer, lately, I think. And I believe that he’s beginning to understand us, rather than just listen to the sound of our voices.”

Faith raised her eyebrows. “If you say so.”

“I do. Now I’m going to go take a nap. Wake me if I’m not up by the time you have to leave.”

The next afternoon Wesley received a telephone call from Quentin Travers informing him that he’d been assigned as Faith’s watcher.

“But I’m already on assignment. Are you giving the Angel assignment to someone else?”

“We have every confidence that you can handle both. Please stop by today and let Mr. Giles know that you’ll be taking over Faith’s training.”

“Faith has already left for the day. If I leave now, I’ll have to leave Angel unattended.”

“Your reports indicate that he’s improving; he should be fine alone for a few hours.”

Wesley sighed. “Of course. Will we be staying here in Sunnydale?”

“No,” Mr. Travers said, and hung up.

Wesley stared at the phone, and then carefully put it down. Angel was sleeping now, but just in case he woke up before he returned, Wesley heated up some blood and set it beside his bedding, then turned the radio on low so that there was some background noise. He then went to shower and change his clothes before heading to the high school.

*~*~*

  
When he arrived at the library, Faith, Mr. Giles, and several other young people, including Buffy Summers, were gathered around the table and involved in an animated discussion.

“Excuse me.”

Everyone looked up at him, varying degrees of a guilty expression on their faces, except for Faith, who just looked gobsmacked. Mr. Giles stepped away from the table and approached him.

“Yes, may I help you?”

“You must be Mr. Rupert Giles.” Wesley stepped forward and held his hand out. “Wesley Wyndham-Pryce at your service.” He lowered his voice. “The Council sent me to take charge of young Faith, here.”

He managed to keep a straight face despite Faith’s snort of laughter.

“Oh, well that’s.... We’re actually right in the middle of a situation, here. If you don’t mind, we could use her assistance.”

“Of course.”

Giles split them up into groups, he with Faith, and Willow with Buffy. Oz was to remain behind.

“Is there anything I can do?” Wesley offered.

“Yes,” Giles said. “If you wouldn’t mind staying here and keeping an eye on Oz?”

When they were alone, Wesley and Oz just stared at each other until Wesley broke the silence. “Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”

“Oz. Soon to be wolfy, so I’ll just....” He indicated the cage.

“Of course. What exactly do I need to do?”

“Make sure I’m locked in and I don’t get out. There’s a tranq gun behind the counter.”

Wesley made sure the lock on the cage was engaged, and then wandered about the library. He checked the location of the tranquilizer gun, and then peered into Giles’ office. He couldn’t resist stepping inside and looking at the titles of the books on Giles’ private shelf. When he heard voices, he peeked out into the library to see who Oz was talking to, and was surprised to see an angry young man standing near the cage, rattling the door.

Just as he was stepping out to warn the boy away, he heard Oz do the same.

“I’m serious. Something’s gonna happen that you...probably won't believe.”

The young man screamed and transformed, and Oz stepped back away from the cage door.

“Or you might.”

Before Wesley could react, the...beast ripped the door off the cage and attacked Oz, throwing him out of the cage and onto the floor of the library.

“Oh...crap,” Wesley whispered. He was alone in the library with a beast and a soon-to-be werewolf.

The beast lifted Oz up over his head and slammed him down onto the table. While he was busy punching and shaking the unlucky student, Wesley attempted to sneak behind the counter for the tranquilizer gun.

The beast tossed Oz onto the stairs, and doing so, caught sight of Wesley. It snarled and rushed him. Wesley drew his dagger and threw it at the beast, and then it was upon him. It threw him back, stunning him, then turned its attention back to its original target. He heard the fighting, but from his position behind the counter where the beast had thrown him, he couldn’t see it.

Oz’s calm, “Time's up. Rules change.” spurred him on and he was able to crawl forward far enough to reach the gun. Pulling himself to his feet, he watched the battle playing out before him between the beast and werewolf Oz.

He knew that there were two darts in the gun, but he didn’t want to incapacitate Oz while the beast was still able to hurt him. When Oz clamped down on the beast’s arm with his jaw, Wesley took aim and fired. The beast went down, and he quickly turned the gun on Oz.

Wesley’s moment of relief was short-lived when the beast staggered to its feet and came after him. Before it could reach him, something crashed into it, taking it to the floor. They rolled and both came to their feet, and Wesley recognized Angel. He was in game face and still carrying the enchanted chains, which he swung at the beast.

The two seemed to be evenly matched, though Wesley hoped that the tranquilizer would slow the beast down, even though it hadn’t disabled it. And he also hoped that Angel had regained enough strength since his return to take on the beast. His worst fear was realized when the beast tossed Angel aside, leaving him lying motionless on the floor, and advanced upon him once more.

Wesley waited, his wrist blade at the ready. He laughed weakly, and thought, this must be the shortest period anyone’s been a watcher.

Behind the beast, he saw Angel climb slowly to his feet and come at it, wrapping the chains around its neck. He lifted the beast into the air and tossed it over his back, choking it, and then twisting and breaking its neck. Angel stood staring down at the beast, which had changed back into its human form, then looked over at Wesley.

He approached slowly, his face sliding back into its human guise, and then stood before Wesley. “Wesley,” he said, and then fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Wesley. “Wesley.”

Only then did Wesley relax his wrist. He lifted his hand and placed it on Angel’s head. That was how everyone found them when they rushed back into the library, the sound of fighting having finally reached them.

“Angel?” Buffy whispered when she got a clear look at the vampire at Wesley’s feet.

“Angel?” Giles said. “But how...?”

Ignoring the questions lobbed at him, Wesley said, “Oz needs to be put back into the cage, and the door fixed. Faith?”

Faith rushed over to help him with Angel and they carried him out to the SUV. He tossed the keys to Faith, and climbed into the back seat with Angel.

“All right,” Faith said, then rushed around to the driver’s side.

They spent the next three weeks in Sunnydale for Angel to return to full strength. While they waited, Wesley put Faith through a training program like she’d never seen, and as Angel gained in strength, he joined them.

Much of the time was also spent fielding inquiries from Buffy and Giles. Buffy wanted to see Angel, and they both wanted to know why Angel’s return was kept from them. Angel, whose last memory was being sent to hell by Buffy, agreed to see her, but only to say goodbye. And Wesley directed their questions about his assignment to the head office.

The day he got the phone call from Quentin Travers about where they were being sent, Angel and Faith were training in the atrium. He stepped out to watch them, and then said, “That was Travers.”

The fighting immediately came to a halt.

“Where are we going?” Faith asked.

“Cleveland,” Wesley said.

“Cleveland?” Faith said. “Isn’t that, like, the middle of nowhere?”

“They have a Hellmouth,” Wesley said.

“Goodie.”

Angel had remained silent. “Angel, what do you think?”

“Well,” he said, “it’s not LA, but it’ll do, I guess,” and then he smiled at Wesley.

Wesley smiled back, suddenly looking very much forward to Cleveland.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to truly_tazi and margarks for helping me come up with the idea and to truly_tazi for the beta on the first part.


End file.
